The King and Queen of Hearts
by CardioQueen
Summary: Theirs is a love story unlike any other and it begins with their first ending. Burke/Cristina/Owen triangle.
1. Chapter 1

_Their relationship wasn't one that anybody would ever understand. It was this big thing that happened so quietly, one of those major events that you never see coming that leaves you in an utter state of confusion. One day they weren't, the next day they were._

The story isn't exactly complete to outsiders; one moment there was a trauma surgeon and a quiet city hall wedding being planned. The next moment there was a heart surgeon and a fist fight and the admission that she couldn't do it.

She simply couldn't do it anymore.

Their's is a love story that's unlike any other; a story of heartache and angst. One of emptiness and loneliness and learning the hard way that they were made for each other. It's not a story of holding gazes across a crowded room and smiles playing upon their lips. It's a story of tears prickling their eyes and fighting back angry words. It's a tale of hating and healing all at the same time.

To really understand it, to understand them, we should start from the beginning. Not the beginning that you'd expect where boy meets girl and boy asks girl out (or buys her a coffee in their case) but the real beginning.

After their first ending.

A darkness had settled over her life before she met him. Cristina had been lonely, had felt emptiness. She was a ghost and he saw her. When she thought that nobody could see her, he couldn't stop looking. For the first time in a long time, he made her heart race, he left her breathless, he made her love again.

Owen wasn't exactly the man she had pictured as being the man of her dreams. She wasn't really into the military thing or the emotional wounds thing. She hadn't really pictured talking to a shrink for the man that she loved. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved him, no creeping suspicions that he was only partially filling a void that the other man in her life had left.

At one time she had convinced herself that she loved him more and no matter how much it scared her, she was sure that he'd never hurt her as much as the last. That he'd always be there for her and that he'd understand her even if she had to fight like hell to make him do it.

That was all before, though.

It was before she found herself standing at the back of a room with a teenage couple, a pregnant woman waiting for her boyfriend to show up and Owen. It was before her heart literally stopped beating in her chest for a full three seconds when coffee brown eyes met hers the moment their names were called.

It was before she realized that when you cannot have what you love, you love what is within reach.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she half argued in a breathless whisper. Her body betrayed her words however as she wrapped her legs around his waist, brought her lips to his once more. "This is the last time," she murmured into his mouth and was quickly silenced by a passionate kiss.

The time before was supposed to be the last too, as well as the time before that.

"Shut up," he rumbled into the kiss before easing himself inside her. It had been too long and the time had taken its toll on both of them. Despite the overwhelming urge to pound her into the wall, Burke held back for fear that it would be over too soon.

It was always too soon when he wanted to stay buried inside her forever, when he wanted to hold her in his arms for all eternity.

Weekends that escaped them all too soon and rushed trysts in expensive motel rooms that may as well have been rented by the hour weren't exactly his idea of how he wanted to spend his life with her. Despite that fact, Burke had given up his right to a future with her years ago.

Now he would love her and cherish her any way he could, even if it reduced him to being the other man.

The one that nobody knew about.

"Burke," his name was a broken whimper on her lips, "baby, come back to me." Her fingers traced the underside of his jaw and she drew his eyes upwards, fixed her gaze with his. She could say everything to him without speaking a word just by looking into his eyes. Her lips grazed his only slightly and she pulled back again, stilling her hips against his for the slightest moment.

He was so deep inside her and his grip on her was so tight, so _secure_. It never failed to amaze her, how incredibly right he felt. She was whole with him, moreso than with anybody else.

Cristina could see the sadness in his eyes and she knew that his fears were the same as hers; that one day this really would end. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her fingers moved through the short curls at the nape of his neck, "Maybe not tonight," she finally whispered. "Another night."

There was no visible sigh of relief on his part, he only returned her gentle kiss. Slowly he began to move again, resumed drawing shuddering gasps and throaty moans from her soft pink lips. He watched with satisfaction as her brown eyes disappeared under heavy lids and pleasure overtook her body. He could feel her skin rise with gooseflesh against his, felt her heart pounding harder against his.

Burke took his pleasure from her then, pushing her harder into the wall, hammering his hips into hers at an angle that should have been illegal. His fingers tangled into her curls and he tugged gently at them to place one last bruising kiss against her lips. With a less-than-dignified grunt he spilled inside her, his hips delivering one last blow into hers that set her body off into another orgasm.

For countless moments they stayed there, pressed into the wall and holding onto each other. Clinging to the one thing they needed, the half that made them whole and dreading the moment that they would have to separate.

If it hadn't been her life, Cristina would have laughed at it and called it melodramatic. She would have gone on about how stupid the woman was for not just being able to make a choice and get over whatever trauma that it was that held her back from _really_ being happy. It was her life though and it was her trauma.

What she had with Burke right now wasn't ideal but it worked. If for some reason he disappeared again, she could have chalked it up to him being tired of merely being the other man. She could have attributed it to him wanting more than a relationship based purely on physical need and little emotional attachment.

Or at least she could pretend that there wasn't any emotional attachment there.

Burke eased her legs from around his hips until her feet touched the cold floor and he held her a moment longer, making sure that she was steady on the ground before letting her go. Every time he had to walk away from her, every time he had to let go of her, it killed him. It killed him to know that she was going back to _him_ and that _he_ was touching her and kissing her, that _he_ was laying claim to the woman that Burke was very much in love with.

It killed him to share Cristina with somebody else.

A long time ago, Burke had learned to stop saying things. He loved her and she knew it. She loved him and he knew it. Saying it didn't make anything easier and it never changed her mind. The routine was always the same. They'd dress, they'd hold each other for just a little while longer and then she'd kiss him goodbye and leave wordlessly.

There was never promise of another time or day that they'd see each other again. There was never a plan to be made.

It would simply end.

Cristina watched as he spread out across one side of the bed in only his boxers. She glanced at the time on the clock by his head and then the jeans in her hand and she dropped them to the floor. She couldn't do it tonight.

She couldn't leave.

Silently, she flipped off the bedroom lights and then crawled into the bed next to him. She pressed her body into his and lay her head against his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart.

Cristina had always cherished the fact that Burke was a runner, his heart rate was no different than the sound of his voice: soft and soothing, a moderate tempo that lulled her and relaxed her. Owen's was the polar opposite, reflecting the intensity of his personality: always slightly tachycardic, loud and upsetting. The sound of his heart made her anxious as if somehow the muscle inside his chest _knew_ what she was doing.

It was in those moments that she'd chide herself for reading too much Edgar Allen Poe as a child. There was no way that he knew without knowing and hearts didn't do anything except for pump blood to the body and stop beating far too soon.

And break.

Her heart was good at breaking.

Burke's arm wrapped around her and he brushed his lips against her forehead. It wasn't the ideal situation, being the other man, but he was going to love her and cherish her until death prevented him from doing so.

Cristina pressed her body closer into his, their legs tangling. She took in a deep breath, inhaled and memorized his scent; imprinted the memory into the forefront of her mind. The perfect moment before she made everything imperfect.

"Burke?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Despite the volume of his name, the intonation in which he used it caused his blood to run cold. "Cristina," he answered, her name laced with hesitation.

She clenched her jaw and felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do. Clearing her throat slightly, her hand found his and she interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she finally murmured, closing her eyes.

It wasn't what she needed to tell him at all.

"I love you too, Cristina. I always will," he answered gently.

Cristina nodded slightly against his chest, closing her eyes and trying to forget exactly what it was that she should have told him. She could tell him another night. There would be many more nights, there had to be.

She had already lived a life without him before, doing it again was not an option.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't like it."

"Then make your own damn coffee," Cristina answered, hiding guilty brown eyes behind her latest issue of _The Journal of Cardiothoracic Surgery_. She was well aware that the coffee wasn't Owen's current source of dislike but she wasn't going to encourage him.

It was too early to make up excuses.

Owen started to answer and then closed his mouth again, looking at publication in her hand. "Your name is on the front of that."

Cristina glanced up again and then casually closed the journal, placing it face down on the table. "It's called a mailing label. Your name is on the front of your trauma journals."

Wordlessly he walked over and picked up the journal before she could take hold of it once more. He flipped it over and scanned the cover to the spot where he had seen her name only moments before. A look of extreme displeasure crossed his expression when he saw her name coupled with _his_, "This," he said, fingering her name written in glossy red italics across the bottom of the journal's cover, "is not a mailing label. _This_ is what I don't like."

"You don't like me being published?" Cristina asked indignantly, pushing herself up from the table. "I'm sorry. I'll work harder at being a mediocre surgeon. Or do I work less hard? I'm confused."

"Don't you start with me, Cristina. Don't you _start,_" Owen snapped at her in frustration. "I don't like it. I don't want you to go."

"I'm going," she muttered in response, carrying her empty coffee mug to the counter for a refill. Her eyes momentarily glanced at the liquor cabinet and she wished that she could add something else to make this situation more tolerable. "Like it or not, I'm going. I've been waiting to get an invitation to this conference since I was in diapers. You don't turn down this kind of an invitation, not without professionally shooting yourself in the foot."

"There's no reason for him to go with you."

"Really? It's not required for keynote speakers to show up for their lecture? Trauma conferences must be fairly uneventful if that's how you people operate."

"Quit playing games with me."

Cristina looked up at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Guilt ate at her insides but she couldn't tell him, she couldn't just blurt it out. She couldn't take back everything that she'd given to Owen. A part of her had wished that she had never given what little bit of her was left over to the man- she always thinks to herself that she had given him what was left of her heart because Burke had it first and he had never _really_ let it go.

Owen would never understand that though.

"It's a conference. It's not some big secret thing, Owen. I'm going because I was invited, because it's going to make me a better surgeon. It's going to buy me more journal covers and more study opportunities."

"It also gives him an entire week with you without me to deal with," Owen answered, "How am I supposed to trust you on this when you've apparently been working on a study, when you've been putting together a headlining article and you haven't once mentioned it to me."

"Look at how you're reacting," she quipped with a pointed glance, "I didn't want to deal with _this_. With whatever caveman behavior that you were going to throw at me."

A behavior that was well justified.

"I don't like it," he repeated with a sigh, tossing the journal aside.

Cristina walked around the counter, abandoning her still-empty cup of coffee and took his hand, "You don't have to like it. I'm not asking you to. I am asking you to chill out though. I'm running on three hours of sleep and I have a fourteen hour day in surgery let alone the charts and long call tomorrow."

He squeezed her hand gently, reached up to brush curls away from her face. "I see how he looks at you, Cristina."

"Your eyes are playing tricks on you."

"He calls you Cristina. How many of his residents is he on a first-name basis with?"

"It's habit."

"He was gone for five years, it's not a habit. The two of you hardly address each other in a professional manner."

Irritated, she began to pull away but found her body being pulled back against his. "What? Nothing I say is going to matter to you because you already know. You're already convinced so what does it matter?"

Owen lowered his lips to hers in a possessive kiss, his arms tightening around her petite frame and pulling her against his much larger frame. Only when he felt her body weaken in his arms, dizzy from the lack of oxygen did he tease his lips from hers. "It's only a conference?"

"You've seen the papers. The letter. You know what it is," she answered breathlessly, her fingers still curled into the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the fabric.

"Tell me."

"It's only a conference."

Gently, he released her not at all convinced by her words. It wasn't that he didn't trust Cristina. His problem wasn't with Cristina at all, his problem was with Burke. The moment he'd returned to Seattle Grace, Owen knew that the man was only there to stir up trouble for Cristina despite the fact that he'd arrived under the guise of an invitation from Derek Shepherd- the then acting Chief of Surgery after announcing the opening of a new Cardiothoracics Institute.

It took less than a week for the two men to share heated words with each other. It was well known fact to any of Seattle Grace's hundreds of surgical residents that the men loathed each other to an unheard of degree and Cristina's history with the two men was practically written into the plaque mounted to the cornerstone of the recently erected Seattle Grace Cardiovascular Research and Treatment Center.

Owen watched with steely eyes as she packed her bag with her journal and a few other miscellaneous items, "You're not wearing your ring."

Cristina glanced up at him, "I haven't worn it to work since the day I had to call you because I lost it in a surgical towel."

The memory wasn't a fond one for him, her brand new ring swallowed up in a surgical towel in some random bag of soiled linens in the hospital. Every time he thought of it, his brain would begin to wonder exactly how her ring had slipped from her finger into a towel so easily without her noticing but then he would chalk it up to paranoia getting the best of him.

Burke was the problem. Not Cristina.

Not _his_ Cristina.

"Stop thinking about it," Cristina sighed, "It's only a week. It's one week and then I'll be home and by then our marriage certificate will be ready and we can get the rest figured out."

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that what she was telling him was wrong, that using their impending marriage to shut him up was dastardly and cowardly but she couldn't take anymore. She had fully planned on marrying him, on giving into what he wanted. Cristina loved him, there was some remote part of her that wanted it or she would have never agreed to it.

Things were just complicated.

Reluctantly, he let go of it. "When is your first surgery?"

"I've got an hour," she mumbled glancing through her bag to make sure she'd gotten everything she'd need for the day. A small yelp of surprise escaped her lips when her body was pulled into his arms once more, this time with a more amorous purpose than before. A whimper of protest left her lips and she glanced at the time, "I can't. I'll be late."

"He's a big boy," Owen uttered into her mouth, sliding his hands around to her ass and lifting her onto the counter. "He can start his own surgeries."

She began to protest that he was interfering with her career when he was like this but her argument would have been invalid as she would gladly be a few moments late if for some reason she'd been eschewed from cardio on a high traffic general surgery day when they needed a set of experienced hands to pull appendices all day. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back ravenously, throwing herself into it.

Pleased with her response, Owen began to unbutton her clothes and she reached down for his pants to unbutton them. His lips moved over her neck and he scraped at her flesh gently with the stubble on his chin, already aching to bury himself inside her.

Rather than telling him to hurry it up and that he could take his time later, Cristina pulled his shirt open hastily, sending a pair of buttons sailing to the floor. Her hips rose as he tugged at her pants and panties and she parted her legs, pulling his hips into hers.

"You know how I want it," Cristina murmured in a low and seductive voice, placing her palms firmly behind her to brace herself against his ruthless entry.

For only a few moments, she tried to force her impending surgery from the forefront of her mind and give herself to the man who loved her so desperately, whom she desperately wanted to love as much as she was sure that she once did.

Cristina's eyes moved upward meeting his blue ones and her gaze faltered. She could see how much he was hurting, even if he wasn't saying it. She knew that he wouldn't understand and she didn't expect him to. Hurting him had never been her intention.

Cristina was merely tired of hurting.


	3. Chapter 3

The marks on her flesh were taunting him. They were silently torturing him, whispering everything in his ear that the other man had done to her that morning. The reddened streaks peaking only slightly beneath the collar of her scrub top told him of the morning tryst.

The warning glance in her eyes told him to keep his mouth shut.

Burke decided not to heed that warning. "You were unusually late this morning," he remarked dryly, peering over the top of his glasses at her. "Does he really need his ego stroked this early in the morning?"

"Shut up."

A faint smirk traced his lips and he leaned over to grab a pen as a guise, "If it had been me, you would have been much later." His voice was low and his eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before he pulled back.

Most of the time he could control his jealousy but not when there were physical signs dancing in his line of vision, not when her cheeks were slightly flushed and her hair tousled in a way that wasn't really obvious to anybody who hadn't seen her in that post-coital state.

Cristina's eyes lingered on his for a long moment and then she looked back at her computer screen, "I'm looking forward to the conference."

"As am I," he agreed with lustful eyes, "I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, working on it. Perhaps too much."

A smile finally cracked her irritated expression and she looked up at him, "That is so wrong on so many levels."

"I thought you may enjoy that," Burke chuckled, "You'll enjoy it more when we get there."

Owen's presence at the end of the hall aborted anymore suggestive conversation and she cleared her throat and she moved her eyes in the direction of her fiancée coming down the hallway. "I'm going to go talk to the patient one last time before we take her in, Dr. Burke. I'll see you in the OR?"

Burke's posture straightened slightly, fully falling into the role of the characters they tried their hardest to play when Owen was around, "Of course. I may be a few moments late, go ahead and open. Cannulate if you get there."

"Of course I will," Cristina grinned, "I'm only two minutes off of your best time." She moved her eyes to Owen's for a second and then back to Burke, "Sir." she added, more out of spite for Owen's conversation to start their day more than respect to Burke.

Owen resisted the urge to kiss her before she walked away from them, to make sure that Burke knew his place in the hospital. He watched as she left and then turned to the man before him. His gaze flashed and he crossed his arms, "Leave her alone."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I said to leave her alone. This conference, as prestigious as it may be, is not an excuse for you to try to win her over or something equally ridiculous. We're happy and you're not going to interfere with that."

A smug grin traced Burke's lips and his tone was one of profound condescension as he replied, "While your insecurity amuses me, Dr. Hunt, I assure you that the juvenile tactics you would ordinarily utilize are not part of my agenda at this conference. Perhaps you would like to see the lecture schedule that's been established? Or maybe we could assign Cristina a chaperone? Would that make you feel better?"

Too many times, Owen had daydreamed about punching the smug bastard before him and now was one of those times. He clenched his fist at his side and lowered his voice to a near growl, "Keep your hands off of her or you're going to leave Seattle with your tail between your legs for a second time, only next time you'll be smart enough not to come back."

Burke leaned over slightly, his voice equally as threatening. "There's not a damn thing that could keep me out of Seattle," _Away from Cristina_, "least of all you, Dr. Hunt."

"We'll see about that."

"I'm just curious Dr. Hunt, if we were going to see about that, wouldn't I have to the exact thing you're telling me not to? I'm getting mixed messages here."

"Then allow me to make myself clear; if I ever find out that you're doing anything to Cristina, if I _ever_ discover that you're doing something to interfere with our happiness, you _will_ regret it. This conference is business and when she returns, you're going to give her the days off that she requested so that we can enjoy our honeymoon without you disrupting that as well."

"Your what?" Burke asked with visible recoil.

"Our honeymoon. Despite your history with wedding traditions, I'm sure that you know what one f those are."

"Of course. I suppose that I wasn't aware of a wedding being planned."

It was Owen's turn to flash a smug grin, "She told the people important to her."

Despite the urging of every bone in his body to cause bodily harm to the man before him, Burke extended his hand, "Then I suppose congratulations are in order."

Owen ignored the gesture, "They are. I'll expect to see her off when we return."

Burke nodded, already trying to process the new information. Cristina should have told him. She would have. He didn't understand what was going on unless she hadn't planned on going through with it. "Is it a large wedding?" Burke pressed.

"You and I both know that she doesn't prefer large ceremonies. I'm capable of giving her what she wants."

"Of course."

"While I'd like to stay and chat, I have work to do."

"That's a pity," Burke remarked idly, "I had hoped to continue our conversation."

Glowering at him one last time, Owen bit back a comment to rub his success in the man's face. Partially because he knew that it would only be considered a success once they were actually married. Though Owen was hoping for the best, the military had always prepared him to expect the worst.

Generally, Burke had always been a non-violent person. He was expert at biting back anger (except when it came to Cristina who infuriated him in a way that no other person ever could) and he always believed in conflict resolution rather than holding a grudge. However, he surprised himself at the strong desire he had to become quite violent with the man parading his relationship with Cristina around as if it were a prize.

Burke knew that it was a mere cockfight, a show of who was bigger or better and he had expected as much from former military personnel. He knew that the man must get some sort of sick pleasure from it and maybe he would as well if Burke were in Owen's position.

If he were honest with himself, though, he was in a position to cast judgment upon the man. His frequent insinuations that Burke would make a move on Cristina, that he would attempt to disrupt their happiness were for naught.

It had been disrupted years ago.

Burke _hadn't_ been the one to make the first move either, though he would assume responsibility if the truth ever came out only to protect Cristina from the consequences of those actions. While he would like to pretend it was honorable of him to do so, nothing about what they were doing was honorable or noble.

While he wanted to regret it, he never would.

With an ache in his heart at the newly discovered information, Burke pushed open the door to the OR and saw Cristina cannulating their patient's heart with ease and he offered a faint smile in her direction through the windows of the scrub room before reaching for a packet.

There wasn't a moment that he didn't regret his actions of the past but with that regret always came the knowledge that he would have never cherished her then as much as he does now. It was a simple fact of life that one always takes things for granted when they have them.

As he studied her through the windows of the scrub room, he wondered how much longer he would have her.

Even if they didn't stop, even if they continued on in whatever it was that they were doing, it wouldn't be the same. A better man would stop and walk away, would accept the fact that she'd moved on and that she needed to turn her attentions to the man that she was choosing to marry.

The idea of stopping was even more heart wrenching to him, yet he knew that it should be done. After tomorrow they would have a week to themselves with no intrusions, no wandering eyes- nobody that would ever know that they weren't supposed to be doing the things that they were doing.

He would think about it after their week, when reality forced him to.

The only thing that mattered was making sure that she knew how much he loved her despite the circumstances that their lives had brought them to. The only thing he wanted to think about right now was erasing those marks from her body and making his own.

Everything else would have to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Preston Burke was convinced that Cristina always brought out the worst in him but in the best of ways. The plane ride in itself had been torture for both of them, mostly because of him. With the impending future weighing in the back of his mind, he made it his mission to have her begging for them to never come home.

While she had always joked about joining the mile high club, Cristina had never expected him to be the one to actually initiate that sort of thing. Before, he would have reluctantly agreed but only after she gave him a raging erection that would last for a fourteen hour flight if he didn't do something about it. Before, he would have fought her on it not be the one pushing her towards the bathroom.

Not this time.

Sex in an airplane bathroom for them was way more than it was cracked up to be, mostly due to Cristina's flexibility and a little bit of creativity on both of their parts. The experience left them high and ridiculously giddy for the rest of the flight, making quiet jokes under their breath and laughing much more than usual.

It had only started on the plane, though.

Cristina hadn't even gotten the opportunity to see her own suite- one that they had planned on inhabiting together- before he pushed her into his suite, justifying that they should at least get a couple hours out of it before abandoning it.

She could feel each mark that he'd left on her delicate skin, his fingertips burned into her nerve's memories. If Cristina were honest with herself, she knew exactly what he was doing but she was going to enjoy it as much as possible.

Turning down voracious sex was never a good idea.

Burke's lips skimmed the back of her shoulder and she shivered slightly, pulling his hand from her upper arm and around her body. Their fingers wove and she turned her head just enough for his lips to find hers and he kissed her softly at first and then more deeply. Their tongues touched slightly, withdrew and the met again, twining.

He pressed his hips into her backside, gently at first and then more firmly. She'd never leave him, never let him go. Not after this week, not when he'd pushed her into a haze where the only thing she would only ever be able to focus on him and him alone.

Or so he thought.

Cristina's cell phone rang and she pulled her lips away from his, disrupting their passionate kiss. "I have to get that," she breathed heavily, fighting to make it sound like she was doing anything but what she was. "It's Owen, I have to get that. I forgot to call him."

Rather than stopping his torture on her body, he began to move his hands down her body as she reached for her phone, "Burke…Burke, stop. He's going-" she gave him a warning glance before she flipped it open and answered it.

She writhed gently beneath him as he moved his lips up the inside of her leg, pressing her legs apart. Her voice remained steady as she spoke to Owen, made up yet another excuse for why she hadn't called him sooner. A delayed flight was too obvious and too risky in using as an excuse- he could find out if he wanted to anyway.

Burke listened as she struggled to stay in control while on the phone, grinned as he reached the spot that drove her crazy. Her fingers tugged at his short hair as she tried to pull him away from her just long enough to get off of the phone.

"No, nothing's wrong.." she answered, faltering again. "I'm just distracted. Trying to work on some of this last minute…stuff."

With a devilish grin on his face, Burke moved his hand upwards and slipped a finger inside her, stroking gently. She faltered again and he withdrew his finger causing her body to jerk against his mouth. With raised eyebrows he looked up at her and grinned, knowing she wanted more.

After another awkward explanation of what was wrong, he pushed two fingers inside her and worked them in and out as she finally found a reason to get off the phone. She slapped it shut and tossed it aside before pulling at his short hair again, pulling him harder against her. "I hate you so much," she gasped, her back arching upwards off the bed once again.

"You love me," he breathed into her heat, "love what I do to you."

"So not the poin-" she gasped again, her eyes slipping closed as he brought her to the edge. Nearly out of habit, she bit her lip and then whimpered softly as her legs began to shake.

They didn't have to be quiet about anything right now, didn't have to hide it.

Burke worked her into a frenzy, his tongue swirling around her clit and his fingers thrusting wildly inside her. When she came, crying out his name, he smiled against her skin and only stopped when he felt her go slack beneath him. He crawled over her body and kissed her gently, let her savor the taste of herself upon his lips.

"I love you," he murmured into her mouth, his hand sliding along the underside of her thigh, guiding it upwards, easing himself inside her.

"Love you," she breathed in response, her body trembling beneath his.

In any other situation, any other moment, he would have questioned why they couldn't be together then. They loved each other, could share it openly- continuing her charade with Owen was pointless when they knew it.

Later.

Burke would bring it up later when he wasn't lost in her oblivion, when she wasn't kissing him so desperately and holding onto him as if he were the only thing that mattered. He would tell her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and the only reality waiting for them at home would be the reality that should be.

As _they_ should be.

He murmured her name softly, his hand clasping hers tightly as they moved together and he hoped in vain that she would see exactly how much he loved her.

There were no other options.

x-x-x-x-x

The warmth of the sun tickled her skin as it filtered in through the window. Her fingertips danced lightly along Burke's side and she only moved to reach for her cell phone, abandoned sometime yesterday afternoon. Lazily, she dialed Owen and lay back against Burke, too tired to move.

She smiled when she felt him pull her closer and put a finger across his lips to keep him quiet as Owen finally answered the phone. Her tone was hushed as she spoke to him, her words much more convincing than they had been the previous afternoon.

On the other end of the phone, Owen tried to relax himself at her words. The images painted across his mind were not pleasant ones and he knew that he would be naïve if he allowed himself to continue to believe that _something_ wasn't going on.

He simply couldn't let her go though.

"So it's nice there?" He asked, his voice still deep from having slept in.

"It's beautiful. Not my usual thing but I'm enjoying the scenery," Cristina answered lazily.

Owen smiled slightly, trying to imagine her on a beach, taking it all in. He'd never been able to coax her away from the hospital for more than a very short weekend. Maybe after they married he'd be able to sweep her away for a while. He'd suggested the time off and she'd agreed to it.

Even if she was only half paying attention at the time.

"I was lonely last night," he uttered into the phone, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Mmm," Cristina answered, glancing up at Burke. "Were you?"

"Definitely," Owen answered, his voice nearly suggestive.

Keeping the awkwardness from her voice, she closed her eyes and silenced a sigh. "Me too."

Lonely was definitely not the adjective she would have used for her previous night. In that instance she almost felt as if she should tell him exactly what she was doing last night but she let him carry on in her ear instead, trying to squelch the guilt eating at her.

After a pause, she finally spoke again, "Owen, I have to go. I need to shower for this thing."

There was disappointment in his voice and he finally nodded as if she could see him, "Call me later?"

"If it's not too late," she promised, "It depends on the schedule. I'll do my best."

"Alright. Have fun, but not too much. I want you to come home to me." Owen murmured into the phone before ending the phone call with her.

Cristina put the phone aside with a soft sigh and tried to make herself comfortable again but her conscience wouldn't let her. She could only assume that this newfound guilt that had washed over her was the impending wedding thing, it had to be. Before, she felt bad, knew that she was doing something wrong but it hadn't affected her this way. Before he had brought it up and pushed the idea of it so much she could have carried on just like this, having her cake and eating it too and it didn't bother her.

Now it bothered her.

It bothered her for all the wrong reasons.

"We could stay here," Burke half joked in a murmur, "Soak up the sun and sand. Pretend like nobody else exists."

"There are no people to cut up here," Cristina answered idly, her eyes closing.

"We could go somewhere with people to cut up. Find an apartment, hide away from the world. Be happy."

"Wake up with coffee," she murmured, giving into his fantasy. "That dark roast that you used to buy all the time and then I can drink it all while you go out and do your healthy jogging thing."

"Make more while I shower afterwards," he grinned down at her.

"I'll be in the shower with you. We'll have to get a maid to make the coffee."

"Oh. Of course, how could I forget?"

"You didn't forget," Cristina smiled, "You were only thinking of the things that I'd be doing to you in the shower."

Burke raised his head to brush his lips against her forehead, "Show me."

"You haven't had enough yet?"

"I'll never be able to get enough of you," he answered in a low voice, pulling her over so that she was lying on top of him.

Cristina smiled down at him, her fingertips tracing along the sides of his face and her curls cascading around them. Her lips brushed the tip of his nose gently, followed by his chin and then moved to his mouth.

"I want to stay here forever," he whispered against her lips, arms wrapped around her.

"Is six days long enough?" She teased gently, pulling back just enough for their eyes to meet.

"Forever," he repeated, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. "Cristina, I know I had my chance before. I know that I don't deserve another but give it to me anyway."

"Burke-"

For a brief moment, Burke silenced her with a kiss before pulling back to look at her again, "Marry me."

"All of the sex has clearly caused brain damage," Cristina tried to tease in a weak voice but she knew that he was serious.

"Then I never want to think clearly again," his answer was even as he raised a hand to tuck a few curls behind her ear. "Give me another chance, Cristina. I want this. I want you. Every day. For the rest of my life."

Cristina looked down at him in silence, pondering his words before answering him honestly, "I want to," she spoke softly. "I do. I want what you want and I want to have it. But Owen-"

"Wouldn't be a part of the equation."

"_Is_ a part of the equation. I can't do it, Burke. I can't do what you did, I can't walk away from him just because he isn't what I want him to be. I can't do that to him," she murmured softly. "I won't do that to him."

He followed as she sat up, refusing to let go of her, "And what we're doing now?"

"He doesn't know about."

"He suspects it, isn't that enough?"

Cristina shook her head, "I…I don't know. I don't want to talk about this now. This is our week," she uttered, "It's _your _week. I'm yours. Right now, I'm yours and nobody else's. Do you _really_ want to discuss Owen this week?"

Burke grimaced at the sound of his name again before glancing downwards. He'd work on it. It wasn't going to just happen in five minutes.

The sensation of her fingertips beneath his chin drew his eyes back upwards and she brushed her lips against his. "We have a week. No work, no people, just us."

"The conference-" he started to argue.

"Is taken care of. It's just us. All week long."

A smile threatened to break his solemn expression and he kissed her then, his arms wrapping tightly around her body.

It would be just them for much longer if he had any say about it.


	5. Chapter 5

There's something to be said for desperation and the things that it can make a person do.

Preston Burke was unashamed to call himself a desperate man when it came to Cristina Yang. He would use every demeaning word in the book if it meant that he'd get his second chance, that she wouldn't continue her half-relationship with Hunt.

His eyes fixated on her vibrating cell on the bedside stand, Owen's name flashing across the display. She was only finishing up a shower and he could easily hand the phone to her.

He could but he was desperate.

With haste, he lifted the phone and flipped it open. If he could at least plant the seeds of doubt it could easily culminate to his advantage. The chances of it backfiring were there too but they weren't nearly as great.

Really, the odds were in his favor.

"Hello?" His voice was quiet but also bright, one that was happy and less than professional.

Owen paused for a second, glancing at his phone to make sure that he'd dialed the right number and lifted it back to his ear, "I'm sorry- is this your phone?"

Burke couldn't resist a grin as he answered, "No. I'm sorry but she's not available. May I take a message for her?"

The smugness of the voice on the other end of the line cued voice to whom it belonged to and his voice lowered into a near growl, "Burke."

"Dr. Hunt, now that we're acquainted would you like me to take a message for Cristina? Or do you want to call back when she's not indisposed?"

"What the hell are you doing with her phone anyway?"

"She left it lying on the bedside table," Burke answered honestly, only slightly emphasizing the phones location as he did. "It was ringing and I answered it for her. Wouldn't you do the same?"

Owen was silent, his mind racing with circumstances in which Burke would be in Cristina's hotel room that didn't have to do with her cheating on him, that didn't involve all of the things he'd suspected for far too long.

A slight smile crept over Burke's lips at the lingering silence and just as he was about to add injury to insult, Cristina changed his plans.

"Baby?" Her voice floated from a few feet away behind him and he flinched ever so slightly. He snapped the phone closed and gently placed it on the table in front of him before turning to face her. The fact that Owen had probably heard her call him that traced his mind and it helped ease his tension slightly.

Even if she found out he'd answered her phone, it would be worth it.

The odds were in his favor.

x-x-x-x-x

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Burke felt his shoulder tense at the tone of her voice and he flipped the page of his book nonchalantly despite the tension, "Nothing is wrong with me. Should there be?"

Cristina's eyes narrowed on the man before her. Never before had she wanted to physically harm him as much as she did right now. "You answered my phone. When Owen was calling," there was venom in her voice and she clutched her fists at her side, "What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what it took to explain that? What I have to do to smooth this all out?"

"I'm sure whatever it is that you have to do, I have a better option."

"Burke," She sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back facing toward him. She couldn't even look at him right now.

"Leaving him would be much easier than whatever ego stroking ritual you have to go through to soothe his ruffled feathers," He continued, setting his book and reading glasses aside. "There's no reason for this charade to continue. We both know what we want."

"And I told you that we can't have it!" Cristina snapped, spinning to look at him. "I had a balance, I had this figured out and it _was_ working."

"It is working," Burke answered, his voice unwavering.

"Was," She said quietly, "Was. Burke, we can't do this anymore. I have to go home."

"So what? He knows. Is he honestly going to continue this knowing that we-"

"He said he forgives me," Cristina interjected, "He forgives me and he wants to work it out and he understands and whatever else. I'm not walking away from him Burke. I already told you that I wasn't, that I can't."

"You barely love this guy, Cristina!" Burke argued, "Why the hell are you throwing your life away on him?"

It was a question she didn't really have the answer to. Maybe it was that she was trying to prove to herself that she could do it, that she could stick no matter what and not fail miserably at a relationship. Maybe it was some stupid drive to do everything the right way and she was so close to being successful for a change that she couldn't pass it up.

Whatever the answer was, she couldn't put it into words so she simply responded with an apology and stood from the end of the bed.

Burke stood as she did, "Where are you going?"

"I told you that we can't do this anymore. It's over, Burke. This is over."

"No," He answered, advancing towards her. "No, it's not. We have three days left, we-"

"Are done. I'm going home. I'm sleeping in a separate room and I'm going home."

Reaching out, he took hold of her hand, "Don't."

"I am," Cristina mumbled, "I have."

Burke stepped closer, brushing a curl from her face and tracing his finger down her cheek to her jaw then to the edge of her chin to tip her eyes up to meet his. He could see her unwillingness to really walk away and he mentally kicked himself for the act of desperation.

The odds _were_ in his favor.

"Not tonight," he uttered, the hand that was closed around hers wrapping around her waist instead.

Cristina stood frozen in his arms, entranced by his gaze. There wasn't a bone in her body that wanted to pull away from him or give him up. Really, only part of her brain had considered it and it was his actions that forced her into it. Now he was standing there and looking at her like that, and using _that_ voice and making it hard for her to think, hard for her to breathe.

Harder for her to let go.

"Burke," she finally breathed, still unmoving.

Rather than answer her this time, he silenced her with a tender kiss. His body shifted closer to hers when he felt her kiss him back and he dropped his hand from the underside of her chin, moved it slowly over her neck, her shoulders and down her arm.

She wouldn't be able to walk away from him.

Not tonight, not ever.

Their kiss deepened, her tongue struggling to meet his and she grasped the backs of his arms tightly as if she were holding on for dear life. She hated him for this, for what he did to her with a single passionate kiss. She hated him for making her love him all over again when she had convinced herself that she was content with Owen before.

Cristina was the first to break the kiss, dizzy with desire and tensed with hesitation as his lips moved over her neck. She closed her eyes, trying to let go to the sensations of it all, fighting not to think or feel anything other than the physical.

She used to be so good at ignoring emotions, it had been effortless for her even. Now everything was complicated and lines were blurry and she couldn't tell which way was up or down when it came to the two men in her life.

She couldn't tell which one was wrong or right.

Again, she murmured his name as his hand slid over her breast beneath her shirt. Her hand grasped his to still his movements and she pulled away slightly, "Burke, we can't."

"Give me this night," He pleaded in a low voice. "Let me have tonight. I'll take you to the airport in the morning."

Burke wasn't really sure if he'd do such a thing but he knew that he couldn't let go of her so easily, couldn't let her walk away without making sure that she knew how much he needed her, how much he loved her. If the past four days hadn't proven that to her, he'd find a way to say it all tonight.

Her eyes shimmered slightly as she studied him and he could see the frustration there. Her hand came up and she rested it gently against his cheek, her fingers stroking the bit of stubble at his cheek. One more night wouldn't make a difference. The damage was done and she _would_ leave in the morning.

Cristina didn't verbalize an answer, instead she kissed him again.

She would never be truly ready to let him go.

x-x-x-x-x

The plane ride home left her with an unsettled feeling in her stomach and a certain amount of fear lacing her bones. It wasn't any fault of his; Owen wasn't the one in the wrong here.

She was.

Cristina wasn't sure what she had expected to come home to with Owen but the last thing she had expected was an embrace or a kiss, no matter how possessive the action might have been. There were words uttered into her mouth about discussing it later and how he was simply happy that she was home and that they could move forward now.

If she were honest, maybe it wasn't that she wasn't expecting it but that she didn't want it.

Maybe she had wanted him to have a change of heart about fixing things, she had wanted him to be more angry, to demand for an ending.

He _would_ want to fix things.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind, instead focusing on making things right, at _succeeding_ at the whole thing.

Owen had never been bad to her; they had a good relationship together. While they may have had difficult times in the past, he'd always been a good boyfriend. Outside of his _issues_, things were placid.

Normal.

_Boring_.

Again, she tried to stop her own thoughts as she focused through the rainy windows of the car. She counted the signs they passed, tried to memorize the odd bits of crap left on the side of the road by careless motorists. Just as her mind started to trace back to the situation at hand, Owen finally spoke.

"I have a friend," he spoke, his voice even but almost commanding, "in Maryland at Shock trauma. He owes me a favor and so I called it in."

"What kind of favor?" Cristina asked idly, her eyes still focused on the outside world.

"It's impossible to transfer surgical residencies mid-year but he managed to do it. The cardio program at Shock isn't necessarily world class but it's still a program that will accept you. They need a department head and so-"

"Wait, wait, wait," She halted him, finally turn to really look at him for the first time, "What the hell are you talking about, a program that will accept me? I don't recall saying that I was trying to find one."

"We need a fresh start," Owen explained, looking over at her. "We need to get away from Seattle. Away from thedistraction_s_."

"You mean away from Burke," she answered pointedly. "Just say it. You want to leave Seattle because you want to get away from Burke."

"I have good reason to."

"I told you it was over."

He scoffed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, "Right. It's over. Just like that, just like it was over when he left you standing in the back of a goddamn church."

Cristina remained silent, turned to look back out the window instead. This was a little bit more of what she had expected.

"I'm talking to you," Owen snapped, thoroughly annoyed by her actions.

"And I'm listening."

"We're leaving," he said with finality. "We're leaving and we're starting over somewhere else. Somewhere that he isn't. It will be good for both of us."

"There's more in Seattle than just Burke. I have other people here that I don't want to leave," she snapped back at him. "I'm not moving."

"Then he is. You made the choice to come home, you've made the choice to commit. You don't get to half ass this, Cristina. It's him or me."

Her response was more automatic than she had wanted it to be, "I'm here aren't I?"

Owen turned his head to look at her for a moment, rather the back of her head and then turned to look back out at the road. Reaching over, he took her hand and clasped his fingers tightly around it.

She was here and he wasn't going to let her leave.

Not today, not ever.


	6. Chapter 6

Relief was the first thing that Burke felt upon stepping inside the doors of Seattle Grace Hospital. Though his flight was only a day after Cristina's, he had feared what would happen in that day that he was so far away.

He never really trusted Hunt, was afraid what he was capable of no matter how many times Cristina assured him that it wasn't 'like that'.

Knowing that she'd be in surgery to avoid all of the questions and confrontations, Burke made his way to the board before anything else. Though he had intended to be gone for another three days, he was almost certain that he could arrange a couple of surgeries to draw her away from Hunt and into his OR to talk.

With ideas already forming in his mind, he scanned the board for her name but came up short. It was not lost on him that Hunt's name was also menacingly absent for the board and sent him stalking off towards the emergency department.

Every turn of a corner left him feeling a little less relieved and a little more apprehensive as to what had happened in the past twenty four hours. After a frustrating and fruitless search, Burke found himself standing in the doorway of Richard Webber's office.

He no longer cared whether or not anybody knew the truth; Hunt would probably make it public knowledge if he hadn't already.

"Preston," Richard greeted, glancing up from a stack of papers, "Back from the conference early too, I see."

"Yes," he answered. Explanations weren't really on his agenda right now.

"I never really cared for conferences myself. Not unless Ellis was there but that was for different reasons."

Burke didn't fail to see the irony, or suggestion, in his statement. "I see that the hospital survived without me."

"In a way. Hunt turned in his resignation so I've been trying to find his replacement," Richard sighed, dropping the papers. "I hate sifting through candidates. They're all greedy bastards who want ridiculous salaries and put the hospital at a high risk. I can't go without them though."

"Hunt is leaving?" Burke asked, trying and failing miserably to keep hope out of his tone.

"He's already gone. It was effective immediately. To be honest, I'm happy that he's going. I never really felt like he meshed well here. There was always something else going on with him."

"You're not the only one."

Richard glanced up, "I didn't think that you'd be so glad. I'm getting rusty in my old age."

"Of course I'm glad," Burke scoffed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I guess I supposed that there was a reason you decided to run off to that conference with Yang. I figured you still had a soft spot for her."

"But we're talking about Hunt," he spoke, dread setting in. "Hunt's leaving. Not Cristina."

"You didn't know?" Richard said, "They're both resigning. Something about transferring to Maryland."

"Cristina isn't leaving," Burke repeated, "she would have told me."

Richard shrugged and pulled his reading glasses from his face, "That's strange because her fiancée seems to think that she is."

x-x-x-x-x

When Cristina had suggested getting married at City Hall to Burke so many years ago, she wasn't quite sure that this was the wedding she had pictured. She glanced around the small gathering of people, all waiting to do the very same thing she was about to do, and she felt very out of place. Her eyes traced to a pregnant girl, probably no older than sixteen with her parents and her acne afflicted boyfriend. She continued across the room to some tattooed guy and his matching girlfriend, their affection for each other probably tattooed somewhere across their ass and then to a young woman looking nervous in the corner.

The nerves were probably due to the girl appearing to be waiting for somebody but being very clearly alone. Sympathy panged at Cristina's conscious for the girl. Her situation hadn't been quite like that but she knew how much it sucked to be in that position.

Cristina shifted nervously, looked over at Owen whose jaw had been set in determination as he looked straight ahead. Her fingers loosened from his and she started to pull her hand away but stopped when his grasp tightened.

"Owen," she started softly, "maybe this isn't the right time to do this."

"Not now," he said in a low voice. "Later."

Not willing to let it go and not willing to simply walk away, Cristina continued. "I broke your trust. You're upset. We shouldn't be here. Not like this. Owen, we need time."

"I don't _want_ time," he hissed at her, "I don't _need_ any time. I want you, I _need_ you."

Cristina could hear the desperation in his tone and she faltered, her mouth half opened and poised to respond though she had no words. She fought for anything to change his mind, anything to prolong this event just a little bit more and she looked away from him.

She couldn't think of anything.

Her eyes moved over the room again, looked to the soon-to-be-jaded woman in the corner and then towards the door as it opened.

Maybe she wouldn't be jaded after all.

Time seemed to slow as she met a pair of determined dark brown eyes and her gaze locked with his. Involuntarily she breathed his name, unable to look away from him but unable to go to him either.

"What about him?" Owen asked angrily.

When Cristina didn't respond, he looked down at her and then followed her gaze to the man standing in the doorway. His grip loosened on Cristina's hand but his body tensed.

Sensing the change in Owen's stance, Cristina tore her eyes away from Burke's and looked in Owen's direction but it was too late. He was already beyond her reach and only a few feet away from the door, "Owen!" she called after him, "Owen, wait."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Owen snapped at him, the pale skin of his face flushed with anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Burke tossed back at him in a well-controlled tone that elaborated on exactly how much he loathed the man before him, "She doesn't love you. She doesn't want to be here. You're forcing her into this."

Cristina tried to force herself in between the two men, "Stop. _Stop_ it. Can you just-"

Owen instinctually pushed Cristina aside, closing the small space that she'd placed between them only momentarily. Before he could utter another word at the man who had tried to ruin his life, he felt a sharp pain in his jaw and his hand rose to meet the sensation.

Disbelief widened her eyes as Cristina watched Burke shake his fist, grimacing. She wasn't really sure that she wasn't just daydreaming all of this crap to forget where she was at and what she was supposed to be doing. That thought was disrupted when Owen lurched forward at Burke, fist flying and she jumped into the scuffle, trying to pull them apart.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" She yelled at them, half tempted to jump in and pull them apart herself but afraid of getting taken out in the process. They were big and she was not.

It was a fairly simple equation.

One that she had to ignore if they were going to stop short of killing each other.

Cristina jumped forward at her first opportunity, tried to grab Owen's hand on the backswing but miscalculated and staggered backward instead, holding her lip.

Catching sight of the incident, Burke tried to push the other man off of him to check on her but it was to no avail. He'd set Hunt off and maybe hitting him hadn't been the smartest thing but the way he'd treated Cristina caused Burke to lose all control.

It was like a horror show playing out before her eyes, standing in the back of a courtroom with some pregnant teenage girl and some jilted would-be bride and two men physically fighting over her. Cristina was almost one-hundred percent sure that she didn't want any part of either one of them right now.

Meredith would never let her live this down.

The nightmare carried on as two uniformed officers burst into the small room and tore the poor men apart. Cristina was tempted not to own up to either one of them or even acknowledge her connection to them but she knew that it really wasn't an option.

It's not like she could leave them to rot in jail.

Looking between the two of them and then to the officers trying to sort out the mess between the two men, she mentally tried to work out an excuse for their barbaric behavior.

Fortunately enough for her, it didn't seem that it was needed as Owen stormed away from the officers and her. Cristina's voice was weak as she called after him, not even earning a backward glance in her direction as he made his exit from the building.

"Cristina," Burke uttered, reaching out to her.

"Not now, Burke," She answered with a wave of her hand. Her footsteps were slow and reluctant as she moved in the direction of the exit. Knowing what she had to do after all of this, adding insult to injury for Owen, slowed her even more.

Cristina never wanted to hurt him.

A hand closed around hers and she stopped, looking back at Burke. "I can't do this right now," she said, "Burke, we can't-"

"I know," he answered softly, "I'm not. I'm apologizing."

Cristina wanted to be comforted by the sentiment but she knew that she wouldn't be until everything was done, "Fine, Burke. You can apologize. Later."

Without waiting for his response, Cristina pulled away and made her exit from the building. Unsure of the words that she would use or how he would react made her even more reluctant to go after Owen.

What do you say to somebody who wants you so desperately, somebody who wants to spend the rest of their life with you despite everything you've done?


	7. Chapter 7

"I didn't tell him."

It's the first thing that she could think to say to him. It wasn't much but she had hoped that it would start some sort of conversation or earn a question from him at the very least but it didn't. So she followed up with a quiet apology, her eyes solemnly resting on his form.

Owen remained hunched over on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded.

"Owen," she sighed softly.

"Don't," he finally uttered, "don't lie to me anymore. I've had enough of your lying."

Cristina wanted to be pissed off at his words but she knew that she couldn't be. She had lied to him about a lot, even if she wasn't lying about Burke coming to the courthouse. "I didn't tell him. I don't know how I can make you believe me."

"I don't want to believe you. I just," Owen paused to shake his head, "I just want to understand."

"That makes two of us," she murmured softly.

"Do you love him?"

A slight nod shook her curls and she looked down at the floor. Cristina couldn't say it aloud, not to Owen.

Taking her gesture as an affirmation, Owen cleared his throat but couldn't avoid his voice breaking as he continued his questions, "How long?"

Silence lingered between the two of them for a long moment before Cristina finally answered, speaking honestly about Burke to him for the first time, "I don't think I ever stopped."

The darkness of his office was comforting. The air was chilled, the blinds were folded and he could sit and go over his actions without everybody bearing witness to it.

Burke brought his finger up to run it over the split at the corner of his lip, still tender to the touch and wondered if he had at least gotten a good hit in on Hunt. It was juvenile and petty for him to think of such things and he could almost hear Cristina harassing him for it.

Almost.

His hand dropped and he leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. It had been a few hours since all hell broke loose and he couldn't find her, couldn't get her to answer any phone calls or text messages. Burke knew that Hunt wasn't exactly Seattle Grace's winner of the most stable personality and it bothered him a little bit.

It would only be a couple more hours before he began a physical search for her.

As that very thought crossed his mind, his office door swung open and he glanced up to find Hunt standing there, bringing Burke to his own feet.

The two men stood in silence for a few moments, staring each other down before Burke finally speaks, "She didn't tell me."

"Shut up," Owen growls at him, "You don't get to bring her up to me. You don't get to talk about Cristina in my presence. You shouldn't have interfered. We were happy. _She_ was happy."

"She wasn't," Burke answered coldly, "Cristina is important to me, the single most important thing in my life. How could I let that walk away?"

"You walked away from her before. You could have done it again."

"It killed me to do it the first time."

Owen sneered at him, "It looks to me like you're very much alive."

"Regardless," Burke replied, peering over the rim of his glasses at the angry man, "It's not something I intend to do again."

"You will. I'm just not sticking around to pick up the pieces this time."

With the slightest twitch of amusement at the corner of his busted lip, Burke watched as Hunt walked away. He knew that he shouldn't be as satisfied with that conversation as he was, especially when he was sure that Cristina wasn't going to make any of this easy for him, but he was happy.

Even though the hard part was over, he was closer to being able to spend the rest of his life with the woman he should have never given up.

"Do you always have to keep it so cold in here?"

"You're drunk. Drunks are supposed to be hot, not cold. There's something obviously wrong with you. Very wrong."

Cristina glared at Meredith before reaching for her vodka. The brand of vodka wasn't exactly her favorite but it didn't stop Cristina from taking another drink straight from the bottle. "This whole thing is fucked up, y'know?" She says, the bottle landing a little too firmly on Derek's antique bedside table, earning a wince from Meredith.

"I think you've had enough of that," Meredith says, reaching out to take the bottle from her but to no avail. "Y'know, you can't drink this away. You're going to have to deal with it, Cristina."

"I beg to differ, I have and I am. I already feel much better. It's the Meredith Grey method of coping. Shut up and drink your tequila. Cope with something."

"I don't have anything to cope with," Meredith smirked, reaching for her drink.

"I'm sure I can fix that somehow. Give it a couple hours. McDreamy will have a mid life crisis. Or you might lose your post it not. Hey…do you get divorced on napkins? Or do you just put the post it in the shredder? You could do the vow renewal with scotch tape." Cristina giggled drunkenly, "I still can't believe you got married with office supplies."

This earned a scowl of bemusement and irritation from Meredith all at once, "Shut up. At least I'm married. You've got cavemen fighting over you."

"Hot cavemen."

"They are hot cavemen. But still cavemen."

"Hey," Cristina slurred, "I get to call them hot. You don't. They're mine. I have two cavemen. Maybe together they can form an entire brain and do something intelligent."

"The chances of that happening are astronomical. Cavemen are cavemen for a reason. They incapable of intelligent thought."

"I know but sometimes they're good at sex. One moreso than the other."

"I'm not asking," Meredith muttered with a sour face before asking, "So what are you going to do? Or who?"

With bleary eyes, Cristina looked up to her best friend and raised her bottle of vodka, "I'm going to finish this."

It was clear to Meredith that she wasn't going to get any answers out of Cristina tonight. She could see regret in her eyes and hurt and something else, or maybe it was simply the effects of inebriation glossing over her eyes, either way she was giving up.

"That," Meredith answered softly, pulling the blankets up over their legs and then reaching for the TV remote, "sounds like the perfect plan."

The code bell blared over Cristina's head and she groaned softly into her arms, squeezing her eyes. She wasn't absolutely sure that they had to play it so loudly. It wasn't like the code team didn't carry a pager anyway. The only thing that the code announcements did was draw rubbernecking visitors to come and gawk at the dead person while the medical staff engaged in a oft futile mission of trying to save another patient's life.

When it blared once more, she winced again and decided that somebody should speak to the hospital administrator about the announcements.

She made the decision to do it later, when the act of breathing alone didn't make her head throb. Talking would most certainly do her in right now.

The sound of something scraping across the counter top caused her to turn her eyes up only slightly and she found a bottle of water in front of her, alongside a bottle of aspirin. Slightly narrowed (more because of the bright overhead lights than suspicion) eye trailed further up to find Burke's and she looked back down.

"Thank you," she mumbled, twisting open the lid of the aspirin and popping a couple in her mouth before opening the water.

"Grey told me you probably shouldn't even be here today," Burke admitted softly.

"Are you here to send me home?"

"If I were sending you home," he smiled, "I wouldn't have brought aspirin and water. I would have simply told you to go home."

This earned the slightest grin from Cristina and she laid her head back in her arms, closing her eyes. "Fine. As long as you're not making me go home."

"Here," he offered, picking up her water, "Come with me."

Cristina groaned slightly, "Do I have to?"

"You have to. Come on," he said, resisting the urge to lift her from her seat. "You'll thank me for it, I promise."

After reluctantly following him to an on-call room, the ache in her head dulled when he shut off the lights and turned on a fan in the corner of the room. "Oh thank god," she murmured, dropping onto the bunk and burying her face in a pillow.

"I told you that you'd thank me," Burke grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

"_You_ are not god," Cristina mumbled into her pillow. "Far from it."

"Close enough," he countered, reaching out to push her wild curls from the back of her neck before massaging it gently.

A soft moan left her lips, "Keep doing that and I may consider agreeing with you this once."

"I can keep doing this. I have a slow morning."

Practically melting into the bed, Cristina nearly drifted to sleep as he rubbed her neck and shoulders. The combination of his massage and the aspirin slowly eased up her headache and she started to push herself up from the bed, "I should go do something."

Burke pushed her back down gently, "No. You should lie down and rest for a while. We don't have any surgeries until three. The OR got bumped for an organ procurement."

She rolled to her side and looked at him through the darkness, the only light filtering in from underneath the door. "What time is it now?"

"Ten. That's plenty of time to rest."

"And what are you doing?" Cristina asked, settling her head against the pillow.

"I'm sure that I can find paperwork to do. Or I can continue what I was doing. I suppose it depends on what you want me to do."

Wordlessly, she shifted over in the bed to make space for him, an immediately understood invitation on her part. Once he had settled into the bed next to her, she laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Burke shifted slightly, wrapping his arm around her waist. His lips brushed her temple and he buried his face against her curls, breathing her in. "Good?"

"Mmhm," she answered, fingertips tracing the back of his hand.

"Good."

"You know that you can't leave again, right?" She spoke softly, her voice betraying the worry inside her, "I mean, because if you do, I'll just send Owen to kick your ass. He's obviously capable of it."

Burke laughed softly and pulled her closer, "In that case, I should probably stay."

"You probably should," Cristina smiled faintly.

Once more, he pressed his lips to her skin and then traced his finger over her chin to tip it upward just enough to kiss her lips tenderly. "You'll never get rid of me," he promised in a low whisper, "I intend on spending the rest of my life with you if you'll let me."

"Yeah," Cristina murmured, pretending to be indifferent to the idea as she closed her eyes, "I guess."

A smile turned up his lips as he settled back down beside her, "Alright then."

-_fin_


End file.
